Sensible
by Blue Drgnfly
Summary: Everyone thought that peace would come after Voldemort's defeat. But with him gone, dark wizards have disbanded and become rebels. And sometimes rebels can be more dangerous than armies...
1. Prologue

~ This is strictly a HG/SS pairing... If you don't like that - its simple, don't read. It takes place four years after Hogwarts and Voldemort's destruction and, well, enjoy....  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.... Bet you never would have guessed. But incase you thought maybe I did, your wrong. The original story, characters, ECT belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. Startling, I know.  
  
*****  
  
Sensible  
  
Blue Drgnfly  
  
*****  
  
Prologue  
  
Wind whipped through the stale room, the smell of old, burnt candles stirring with the breeze. A lone candle stood spent and burnt, thickly surrounded by the sweet glaze of frosting engulfing a tiny cake - long forgotten. Next to the modest cake, the table it laid upon was empty save a small serving dish neglected along with the morsel.   
  
Roused by the tickle of curls against cheek, a young woman looked up from a large volume to the table causing her eyes to settle on the forsaken cake. She sighed, twenty-three... Her rich eyes darkened to chocolate as she glanced at her nimble fingers as they grasped the leather binding of the book. They seemed the same hands she had know at seventeen, eighteen, twenty... Her eyes narrowed, as if to accuse her fingers of lying. She certainly did not feel the same. She felt - well, old. Her lips twisted cruelly. Certainly a ridiculous thought! Twenty-three was hardly old, she was hardly an old hag; it was illogical to feel ancient. She sighed again, allowing the book to fall to her lap as her head fell back into the chair. She stared at the ceiling, blowing a strand of untamed hair from her eyes as she scrutinized the plaster, suddenly wishing for Butterbeer and OWLs and... Hogwarts. Her eyes closed out the tiny room and the forgotten cake and thought of simpler times - when things were far from simple, but had so much more direction, purpose. But there was no use in dwelling. It made no sense. And Hermione Granger was always sensible.  
  
As if to break the silence of monotony, a tiny thing whizzed through the window, making sporadic circles in the room, before coming to a halt at the table and upsetting the cake. The candle flew, landing somewhere on the bare oak floor, as icing splattered the tablecloth and the tiny owl. Hermione laughed, full and rich, and for the first time in what seemed like ages, the smile reached her eyes.  
  
"Pigwigdeon!" she laughed, rising to pet the petite bird.  
  
"Have a letter for me?" She mused as she grasped the scrolls attached to the owl's leg.  
  
"Two?" The bird chirped in response.  
  
She smiled again, recognizing the handwriting, as she fed the bird some snacks. The owl crooned in response, ruffling his feathers as he tried to throw the icing from his back. Amused, Hermione wiped the gob off and looked down at the owl.  
  
"You should get back, you silly thing. Thank your master for me, won't you? And Harry too." The owl hooted in response as it flew from the table, circled the room once more, before bolting from the room. In the corner, a large ginger cat looked up at the flying intruder murderously before lowering his head. Hermione looked down at the cat and watched as animal seemed to shrug as if to say 'it wasn't worth his time'. Hermione shook her head, smiling and muttering about strange animals and stupid cats as she glanced down at the letters. Casually, she settled back down on the chair, tracing her hand over the parchment as her body sank into the comfort of leather, before opening the first letter:  
  
**  
  
Hermione:  
  
Happy Birthday! Harry and I are awfully sorry we couldn't be there and all. But I guess that can't be helped. Twenty-three huh? How does it feel? Same as twenty-two? I have a present for you, but it'll have to wait. Stupid, useless thing that calls itself an owl is too small to carry it. Too bad Hedwig is off sending stuff to the Order. Oh well.  
  
Harry and I are somewhere in Cornwall, but who knows where we'll be when you get this. We're finishing off a small group of Death Eaters who just won't see to bloody disband. Stupid buggers, guess we'll have to teach them a thing or two! Funny how we all thought that this would all end when Voldemort was gone? Anyway, I got to make this short, Lupin just got back... looks ruddy mad too. Things must still be going bad with the Ministry. Guess having Fudge gone didn't solve much either. Life is too bloody complicated.   
  
Ron  
  
PS: Just fond out we're headed to France next week. I'm going to miss the Quidditch playoffs. Again.   
  
**  
  
She smirked, reading the postscript, as she thought of her red haired friend. No matter how old they got, Quidditch was something he would never grow out of. Her fingers lingered on the parchment, dancing over the ink, as she tried to pictured Harry and Ron. She hadn't seen them in months. They seemed so far away... She sighed as she reached for the other letter; it started in a similar fashion:  
  
**  
  
Hermione:  
  
Hullo, and Happy Birthday! You're twenty-three - no, wait, I suppose you'd be twenty-four if you count the time with the Time Tuner. Doesn't that seem like ages ago? How is your research going? I always knew there was a reason for all that studying. Turned out useful in the end, huh? Anyway, Ron probably told you that were headed for France in a week - he's still grumbling about the playoffs. It's a shame we can't go. I really do miss Quidditch. I miss a lot of things really.   
  
But enough about that. Dumbledore is having difficulties with the Ministry still and Snape's gone and lost his job because of it. Don't really know where he is now... but I think Dumbledore knows. I suppose that he knows most anything, really. The situation reminds me a bit of Sirius, having to run and all. But I promised I wouldn't write about the past. We'll get everything straightened out - this all has to end sooner or later right? Well, I'm going to talk to Remus now. I don't quite think I've ever seen that man pissed. Frightening really.   
  
Love,  
  
Harry  
  
**  
  
Hermione's eyes examined the paper once more, trying to ignore the sad, regretful tone of the letter. She sighed, audibly distressed as she set the parchment down and thought back to the information revealed in the paper. Snape on the run? What was the world coming to? She sighed, bloody shame really, he was an awfully good Potions professor - the students weren't going to learn a thing without him. Her fingers drummed against her thigh, he'd always been difficult, but really - he taught you things and, well, she'd come to respect him over those seven years. Glancing out the window, her eyes scanned the landscape wondering idly where he was. Biting the inside of her lip she looked back into the room, books crammed on desks and scrolls discarded everywhere, as she let all thought of the Potions Master slip from her mind. Why did it matter where he was anyway? He could take care of himself and she had things to do, research to do... after all it was the sensible thing to do. And Hermione was always sensible.   
  
*****  
  
Author's Notes:   
  
Well here it is my first Harry Potter fic. And it is HG/SS - a pairing I've found becoming quite an obsession of mine. This was short, but it's the Prologue and its supposed to be! Please, please review... for someone who's been writing for quite sometime, I'm feeling very insecure about this particular piece of fiction.... Anyway, more to come!! (I'm afraid whether you like it or not!!) ;) 


	2. Chapter One

~Next Chapter already! I'm so happy I could dance!!! That is if I could dance. It's really more like convulsing and like pulsing. It's repulsing! Ha! I rhymed! I'm a poet and I didn't know it... did I just write that? Whoa. Sorry about that. Anyway, enjoy. Sorry this is a lot of background info this chapter, but it's necessary. On with the show....  
  
**Thanks Matte for your review! And to all of you who read the Prologue before I fixed it, sorry about the stupid typo... The story is SeNsible, not Sesible (really, stupid author!) I suck at the computer thing. Anyway, all better now. Hope I'll get better at this!   
  
All old disclaimers reply. I don't own it J.K. Rowling does. 'Nuff said.  
  
*****  
  
Sensible  
  
Blue Drgnfly  
  
*****  
  
Chapter One  
  
The room was dark and foreboding, thick, dark, velvet curtains covering the sanctity of light that would have streamed through the windows. The smell of Brandy lingered sharply in the air, mingling with the smell of the single candle burning by the expanse of a small couch, giving the room an exotic aroma. Settled on the seat a man looked pensively into the snifter, his lank black hair falling into his eyes, as he watched the thick liquid swirl in the large, tulip shaped glass.   
  
He sat there for a while, saying nothing, staring into the glass looking for answers, his lips forming a sneer at his stupidity as he found none. He laughed at himself, at his situation, as he looked at his surroundings - cluttered and dirty noting how little it suited him, how little this all suited him - but the laugh sounded harsh and misused, almost abusing the owner. Strange how things change... his lips quivered as if he found something ironically funny, thinking back to how everything started. It was quite funny, wasn't it? His coal, black eyes narrowed, focusing back on the glass.   
  
Voldemort had been defeated, just as everyone had hoped, by Potter at the end of his seventh year. Everyone had practically cried for relief, his lip curled, I guess after the Dark Lord being such a prominent force of evil you begin to think that all the evil will cease with his destruction. Stupid really, you cannot purge evil from the earth - it remains, even without its leader....  
  
He sat up, swirling his glass before bringing it to his lips and downing its contents. He grimaced slightly, enjoying the feel of the harsh liquor burning his throat. When did he begin to enjoy the pain? Vanishing the thought he grabbed the bottle and poured himself some more, willing his headache to go away but not giving himself the satisfaction of taking the potion needed to relieve it. His eyes settled on the candle flame, watching it waver and flick.  
  
Of course celebration was short lived when they found the remnants of the Death Eaters hadn't dispersed. Oh no, they wanted revenge for their master, and, after the Dementors had joined those rabble the year prior, they had the confidence to free those in Azkaban who weren't insane and keep fighting. Maybe if Lucius hadn't been one of those few...Severus sighed as he sipped the brandy, damn Malfoy, he always was more trouble than he was worth.  
  
But without a strong leader, all the dark forces broke off into small factions and rebel groups that were almost even more trouble than when they were a unified army. It was harder to find small groups, and it was easier to Apparate in, murder a few Muggles or Mudbloods, and leave. They never stayed in one spot, which sent the Order and the Ministry in a mad chase to catch them.   
  
Severus stared darkly down at his arm; almost sure he could see the mark through his robe. This was the reason for his problems. The reason he was here. Cornelius Fudge was killed during the 'final battle' and that led to the thought that the Ministry would finally lay off Dumbledore. But that wasn't the case. One of his bloody lackeys took his place and, in order to cover up their 'misjudgment of the He Who Must Not Be Named situation', swore they would bring in every Death Eater left. A few months later and after a few doses of Veritaserum a list of Death Eaters was triumphantly revealed by the Ministry. Posted all over the papers, the list was given out to warn the Wizarding community to beware of these people, fear them, and notify the Ministry if they were spotted. One name appeared that didn't belong: Severus Snape.   
  
Severus smiled cruelly to himself as he remembered how Dumbledore had tried to clear his name. But it was simple. Veritaserum never lied... unfortunately, the man who was under the potion hadn't known he was a spy - the Ministry didn't care. No, they clung to the list that was going to save the organization and bring the Ministry back into good standing with the Wizarding world. They ordered his arrest, Dumbledore refused, but in the end the alarming amount of owls from worried parents forced him to leave the school's shelter.   
  
Of course, at first he simply thought he'd go home to his estate. But the Ministry was waiting there, waiting, it seemed, everywhere. And where the Ministry wasn't, the Death Eaters were. In an ironic twist of fate, Severus Snape was caught in the middle of nowhere. The Ministry wanted him because he was a Death Eater; the Death Eaters wanted him because he was a spy. And it was all getting fucking tiresome.   
  
Severus drained the remnants of his glass once more before discarding it on the table. Swiftly he rose, his black robes swirling around him as walked to the small, rump-sprung bed, to where his traveling bag lay. Hastily, he stuffed the remainder of his belongings haphazardly into the bag - frowning at the thought of leaving. Again. He sighed; blaming himself partially for the situation he was in as pulled out his wand. With a quick flick of his wrist the case shrunk and he stuck it into his pocket. Glancing around once more, he walked over to the desk in the far corner and scribbled a note to Dumbledore telling him he was moving once more and asking briefly of the Order and how things were. Pausing, he looked down at the parchment, debating whether it was safe to sign his name, but settled for his initials instead.   
  
Taking a small green ribbon, he tied the letter to the large black owl perched next to the desk. It crooned, looking a Severus for instructions. Snape scratched the owl attentively as he opened the dark curtains to let him free. Light swept over the room, making the man squint.  
  
"You know where to go Carden. Fly swiftly."  
  
With that the bird took off out the window, leaving his master in his wake. Severus watched the bird fly until he disappeared into the horizon. He sighed, wishing he could be so free. Closing the curtain, the room became dark once more as he looked around his surroundings, preparing to leave. Pulling out his wand once more he cast a spell to make his appearance shift - leaving behind his face for one of a stranger. Of course the spell only worked for people who didn't know him, but it kept all the people who had seen his picture in the paper from turning him in. Without taking another glance, the man left the room, walked down the dingy, rotting hallway, and entered the world. The sunlight hit his eyes, marveling at its brightness before walking out into danger, never noticing the black shadow trailing behind him.   
  
*****  
  
Acantha Medius stretched in her desk, her robes pulling tightly against her shoulders as she reached down to rub a muscle low on her back, arching into a stretch. Papers filled her desk until she no longer recognized them and the drone of her secretary making appointments gave her the urge to scream. Taking Fudge's place had not been her idea. But at least it was a temporary position until the elections. She sighed, her fingers trying to massage out the kinks, she just had to make it until elections.   
  
Hazel eyes closed as she tried to relax, but found no solace. She was tired. Tired of Death Eaters, of panic, of Dumbledore. Acantha sighed, biting her thin lip, she was an honest witch - conservative, and she upheld the law. Why did everyone want to oppose her? Was bringing down the Death Eaters such a bad goal? A knock interrupted her thought, making her jump.  
  
"A Mister Remus Lupin to see you Ms. Medius." Her secretary said from the door.  
  
She sighed, rubbing her sore temples, "Let him in I suppose."  
  
A middle-aged man entered shortly, his hair gray with the weight of responsibility, his eyes haunted by experience. Her eyes narrowed, this must be the werewolf.   
  
"Ms. Medius," he said nodding politely in her direction.   
  
She nodded, but said nothing, content to survey him.  
  
He shifted on his feet frowning, "I'm here on behalf of Albus Dumbledore.... With concerns with the vindication of Professor Severus Snape."  
  
Acantha's lips twitched, "He's a Death Eater."  
  
Lupin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "A spy Ms. Medius, a spy."  
  
"Oh?" she asked incredulously. "Then why, pray tell, wasn't Mr. Snape registered?"  
  
Remus crossed his arms, shifting his weight defensively. "Frankly because you can't bloody well trust everyone in the Ministry, Ms. Medius. And Albus wasn't about to let Snape be caught because some mole in the Ministry that came across some imbecilic registry!"  
  
"Veritaserum does not lie."  
  
She stood, her chair falling back from the swiftness of the motion, the pain in head causing it to pound. "Listen, I've got things to do. And this old man that you all seem to worship should very well go back to running his school and minding his own damn business!"   
  
Lupin's lip curled, "How dare -"  
  
"Oh stop! Dumbledore is soft and his judgment is lacking. Year after year he lets in dangerous characters into his school, endangering his students! And everyone knows he has a penchant for adopting deplorable creatures: that half-giant Hagrid, Death Eaters..." she paused, looking him up and down, sneering, "werewolves. Our information tells us that Severus Snape is a Death Eater and no spy of ours. He will be captured. He will be killed!"  
  
She smiled falsely, straightening her robes and collecting herself. "Now please remove yourself from my office. We are done with this conversation. Or must I have you removed?"  
  
Remus stood still, not trusting himself to speak, as his hands clenched and unclenched in a weak attempt to nullify his temper. He shook visibly as he bit the inside of his lip until he tasted iron. Turning sharply, he made his way to the door - never glancing back.   
  
Acantha sighed, deflating as she plopped down into her chair. Her eyes felt gritty from lack of sleep as she stared blankly at the mounds of paperwork to finish. She felt sick. Slowly she reached for a stack papers and started to review the article - this day was only going to get longer if anything else.  
  
*****  
  
Hermione hummed softly to herself as she browsed the seedy bookshop - always watchful of her surroundings. A few years back she would have shivered at the thought of purchasing any book specializing the dark arts. She sighed bringing her hand up to a black bound book - she had a feeling she would not find what she was looking for on the shelf. Glancing over at the counter, she looked at the shady-looking merchant, his stringy hair coming down around his head like sticks as he smiled toothlessly in her direction. She smiled back, wrapping her cloak around her for confidence, as she headed her direction.  
  
"How may I 'elp ya miss?" the merchant asked, looking her slowly up and down - his smile becoming lewd.  
  
Hermione frowned, "I'm looking for some information on Mors Magus spells pertaining especially to Muggles."  
  
"We don' 'ave any of that sor'a thing 'ere -"  
  
Hermione smiled, dropping a few galleons down onto the table. "Ah, you see, I have it on good authority that you do."  
  
The man looked hungrily down at the glint of gold on the counter before glancing around. Hastily, he put the money into his pockets.  
  
He smiled toothlessly, "Awright, maybe we do 'ave sommin' 'ere for ya." He looked around again. "Wait 'ere..."  
  
With that the man traipsed into the back room, returning with a large, weathered volume. Hermione eyed the article, her eyes widening at the size of the text. Was there really that much information on murdering Muggles?  
  
"It's the only one o' its kind." The merchant whispered, leaning towards her, placing his hand protectively over the book as he laid it on the counter.  
  
"Gonna cost ya." He stated simply.  
  
Hermione sighed, asking for its cost and handing over the large sum of money when he responded. The merchant smiled happily as he pocketed the change, his stray hand pushed the book into her arms. As she turned to leave, the man motioned towards the text.  
  
"What're ya doin' with a book like that, anyway?" He smiled coyly, "I don' like no Muggles m'self... You a witch after m' own heart." His eyes slid over her frame once more, "If ya' interested -"  
  
Hermione stiffened, her brown eyes scrutinizing the man. Smiling coolly, she shrunk the book, sticking it in her pocket.  
  
"What I want with this book is none of your concern. And as for your offer..." she sighed, "not interested."  
  
The man's posture stiffened as he nodded crisply.  
  
"Awright, Good'ay then Miss."  
  
She nodded, pushing a curl from her face as she turned from the man, wrapping her robe closer to her, and walked quickly through the shop's doors. Exiting the stuffy building, Hermione paused to take in the freshness of the crisp air outside. She sighed contently, thankful to be away from the environment of the bookstore, letting her body relax and her eyes close - coming down from the rush of being on the defensive.  
  
Taking one last deep breath, she turned quickly toward her apartment but instead came in contact with something solid - throwing her off balance.  
  
"Shit." Muttered the disrupted stranger as he looked down at her fallen form - his eyes glancing behind him as if to look for something.  
  
Hermione smiled, laughing softly at her own clumsiness - something she had always hoped would subside after adolescence - before she dusted herself off.  
  
"Sorry bout that, terribly clumsy of me."  
  
The man looked back at her, his nondescript features barely noticing her, before glancing back behind him.  
  
His head turned back towards her, nodding "Its no problem... Excuse me I - " he stopped, looking at her for the first time.  
  
Hermione's eyes narrowed as she looked at the stranger, she did not recognize him, and yet...  
  
Her eyes widened, "Pro-professor Snape?"  
  
He looked at her, not quite sure of what to do. His mouth opened and shut twice before words issued from him.  
  
Severus sighed and nodded calmly, "Miss. Granger."   
  
Hermione stared, noticing the spell that had caused her not to identify him, watching him as he glanced once more behind him. She blinked, looking in the direction he had just looked and noticed the cloaked figure a few feet behind them for the first time.   
  
Her voice lowered, "Someone's following you."  
  
It was a statement of truth and Severus rolled his eyes, "Really, Miss. Granger?" he asked sarcastically.  
  
She bit back the urge to snap at him; instead she looked back at the figure, then in the direction of her apartment - making a decision instantly.  
  
"My place." She whispered, "It has wards - you can wait until its safe to leave."  
  
Severus paused, looking down at her as if to protest before glancing back at the lingering figure. He sighed, weary of running, as he nodded. Taking that as the best answer she would receive, Hermione grabbed onto his arm - Apparating them both to safety.  
  
*****  
  
Author's Note:   
  
Hope you like this! I'm not sure how long this will be on ff.net, but its 15 pgs double-spaced on Word. Is that too short, long? What is the consensus?? Hopefully I got all the bugs out of posting on the internet - but you never know and I still haven't figured out how to use bold or italic on ff.net. Can anyone tell me? It would really help.   
  
  
  
~Anyway... just some interesting notes:  
  
*Acantha - means "thorny" in Greek.  
  
*Severus' owl is named Carden which is "from the black fortress" in Celtic.   
  
*And Mors Magus is Latin for "death magic"... roughly.  
  
That's all! Please, please review!!! Flames don't even frighten me. So Pleeaasse???? 


	3. Chapter Two

~ Next Chappie... Yeah! Sorry about the delay, but I had to stop and route out the plot for this story. I don't usually write 'spur of the moment' pieces (which this happens to be), and when I write a story I like to have it generally plotted out. So, when I started to write this chapter I was stuck - not really sure of where I was going with this. Anyway, I took a breather and started writing a plot summary, which is why it took me so long to get this to you!  
  
Well, I'm going to stop writing this now, honestly... truly - so you can get on with this story... what, haven't you stopped reading yet? What are you doing? READ THE STORY!!   
  
** To all those who reviewed: THANK YOU! And to all who didn't: Please do - I don't think you realize how much a review means to the writers at ff.net... even if its criticism. Please? I can handle it.  
  
*Dragonmaster Kurai: Thanks for the poke. How did you know I'm always starving??  
  
*Kedd: Thank you for all the information about formatting. It helped. A lot. I still haven't figured out the whole italicized thing (believe me I tried) - but what can you do? Thanks!  
  
*Matte: Again, thank you for your review. It really prompted me to get my ass in gear and finish this half-written chapter!! Kudos, my friend, kudos!  
  
Oh side note: have you ever watched Field of Dreams?? "If you write them, they will read them" totally reminded me of (in spooky inspiring voice) "If you build it, they will come". It was great - made my day (Even if you didn't mean for it to sound like that) Anyway, many thanks.   
  
Disclaimers are the same as the last chapter, and the prologue... I don't own it people!   
  
OH!! And I now have an email address for this site: BlDrgnfly07@hotmail.com so email me if you want chapter updates, or just want to say 'hi'. Whatever. Now Read!  
  
*****  
  
Sensible  
  
Blue Drgnfly  
  
*****  
  
Chapter Two  
  
If they had landed inside her apartment, she hadn't noticed. The air buzzed with the energy of an Apparation, but all Hermione noticed was the heat of her hand connected with his arm. She could almost feel his skin through the fabric of his robes - could imagine the hair of his arm against her fingertips. She swallowed, closing her eyes, trying desperately to get her bearings, before opening her eyes once more, coming in contact with smoldering black ones. He stared down at her, his face unrecognizable, one eyebrow raised as he surveyed her reaction.  
  
Hermione blinked, clearing her throat, as she stepped back - separating their physical connection. She looked about, her hands coming around to grasp her elbows as she tried desperately to think of something appropriate to say.  
  
"This IS your apartment I assume?" Severus sneered, cutting through the silence.   
  
She jumped, looking up at him again, "Oh - uh, yeah of course... Sorry 'bout the mess - bloody research you know." She sighed uncomfortably, as she shifted her feet.  
  
His eyebrow, if it was even possible, raised even farther, "Research?"  
  
She blinked, "For the Order - studying a certain potion we believe the Death Eaters have in their possession. We need an antiserum. But there isn't one in existence - to our knowledge..."  
  
He nodded, a piece of dark hair falling into his eye, "So you're creating one."  
  
She smiled, relaxing as she realized this was a safe topic to discuss. He was a Potions Master after all...   
  
Her arms dropped to her side as she motioned to the makeshift laboratory in the corner, "Exactly. I'm not having much luck however - its an ancient magic, mostly created during the Dark Ages and during times of witch persecution - there are hardly any text on it and what little there once was..." she shrugged, "was destroyed."  
  
Severus' brow furrowed as he looked over to the table. His fingers itched to touch the equipment - having been so long without the means to make suitable potions. He huffed at his weakness, and returned his gaze to the young woman standing across from him. He crossed his arms as he leaned languidly against the wall - processing the information she had given him.   
  
"What exactly are you researching?"  
  
Hermione hesitated only a second - after everything she had found out about her quiet ex-Potions Teacher - she trusted him.   
  
"Muggle Mors Magus."  
  
Severus mouth opened, "Mors Magus? For Muggles? What exactly are the parameters - Death Magic can vary greatly depending on the spell."  
  
Hermione sighed, looking old and weathered, "It's a very rare, obscure potion - an form of Exterminous. As far as we know, the potion has multiplying properties and, when sprayed into the air, it spreads and kills any Muggle or Muggleborn who inhales it."  
  
Severus bit the inside of his lip in thought as he glanced back towards the worktable. "Well, that would certainly fulfill the desire of every Death Eater out there - and then some, unfortunately." His eyes moved back towards her, noticing the determined set of her jaw - her eyes bright with fortitude. This threat must affect almost everything she holds dear...   
  
He sighed, "Does the Order know who is in possession of such a potion? It could be most beneficial to know something more of the possessor."  
  
"We have a few leads - but no one knows for sure. From what we gather, Voldemort had the spell for quite sometime. But due to his Muggle ancestry, he couldn't use it."  
  
"Now that Voldemort is dead..."  
  
"Nothing's stopping them. Exactly."   
  
He looked thoughtfully at her - his eyes seemed to glint with knowledge as he digested the problem. Hermione noticed the way he bit the inside of his cheek as he thought - suddenly wondering why she had never noticed the life inside his eyes, the sparkle of an intelligence few people could appreciate. She blinked in surprise before vanishing the thought, her cheeks growing warm with color.  
  
Severus noticed her blush, but chose to ignore it. Instead, he focused at the problem of the potion. "Has Albus not sent you any assistance? This is obviously a task for more than a single person..."  
  
She shook her head, her curls dancing around her face, "I'm afraid not... there are so few people that qualify for work like this - let alone people we can trust. I assume that Dumbledore would have asked you, being a Potions Master, but under the..."  
  
She stopped, her mouth still forming forgotten words as she stared at the man across from her - her eyes sparkling with revelation.   
  
"That's it!" she exclaimed, her hands coming together with excitement and hope.  
  
Severus glanced around nervously, his eyebrow raising as he suddenly felt he was being cornered. He sneered, "What is 'it', Miss. Granger?"   
  
She smiled, wanting to laugh, "YOU."  
  
"Wha-"  
  
This time she did laugh, her voice sounding full and relieved, "Its brilliant! You can stay here. Certainly I am having trouble finding the antiserum alone, but together, we could figure this out - I'm sure of it. You would have a place to hide out and I would have that extra pair of hands and knowledge I desperately need."  
  
Suddenly Severus was at a loss for words. Could she have possibly asked him to work with her - laughing and happy? He scowled at the strangeness of the situation.  
  
"Miss. Granger..." he started, as if he was explaining something insipidly plain to a child, "as much as you think this is the answer it, by all means, is not. This is no safe house and my staying here, if anything, would most certainly put you and your research in danger."  
  
Hermione huffed, trying to ignore the superior tone of his voice, but failing miserably. Insufferable man. "There is no research without your help! Surely you can concede to that point. And as much as I'd hate to admit it, especially to YOU... I do not have the skill it takes to create such a potion alone."  
  
Her arms crossed as she boldly stepped towards him, her eyes afire, deep amber, as she stared into his unreadable eyes. "Yes, by staying here I am taking a risk. Yes, I understand that I might loose my life. Yes, I understand that, if you are found, the research will be destroyed. But the point is that I will never get anything accomplished without you - and I will die anyway if I don't find an antiserum. I will die along with my family and countless other innocent people who are not even aware that there could be a danger!"  
  
Severus stared at her, not recognizing the woman before him as the young, bossy girl he had once taught. His eyebrow rose as he looked at her, her breaths coming in heavy puffs - causing her chest to rise and fall dramatically. And, as he looked at her - angry and indomitable - he began to feel something he felt for few people. Respect.   
  
Silence dragged on as he regarded her words, trying to find holes in her logic. Frankly, a small part of him acknowledged, he was afraid of staying with her. He sighed as his fingers played tentatively with the fabric of his sleeve - his features masked the uncertainty he was feeling.  
  
Hermione's weight shifted, suddenly finding she felt off balance after her outburst.   
  
Her fingers tapped impatiently at her side, "Well? Say something!" She said, finally unable to take anymore of his silent survey of her. She swallowed, her mouth feeling dry.  
  
The corner of his mouth twitched as he watched her loose her composure. "Fine."  
  
This time, it was Hermione's eyebrow that rose. "Fine?"  
  
"I have considered what you have said, and, finding that you do understand the danger you might be partaking in... I will help you with this enigma of a potion you seem to be having so much trouble with."   
  
Her lips twitched, "Thanks... I think."   
  
His eyebrow rose as his eyes glowed with something akin to humor. "No problem."  
  
*****  
  
Harry leaned back in his chair, his arm moving to the armrest - fingers tapping from pent-up energy, a sigh escaping his lips in heavy dramatization as he glanced over at his red haired companion who slouched depressively in his own chair - echoing Harry's sigh in silent agreement.  
  
Running a hand through his coppery hair, Ronald Weasley stood, pacing the small room.   
  
"I'm going bloody bonkers!" He exclaimed vehemently as he raised a fist in the air. "The biggest Quidditch game of the year and were stuck in ruddy France of all places."  
  
Harry sighed, glancing up at his friend, "Sometimes I really miss Muggle society - we could be watching the game now if we had a television!"  
  
Ron stopped, looking shocked. "You want to watch Quidditch in a box!?"  
  
Harry smiled, fearing he would - once again - have to try and explain the intricacies of a television. He moaned, suddenly grateful that Arthur wasn't there. "It's not a box Ron. Its... well you see, erm, its..."  
  
"Its no use Harry, that's what it is. No matter how many times you try to explain it to me - or that blasted Comutter contraption - I don't get it. It seems cruel to shrink people and put them in a box for other's amusement!"  
  
Harry laughed good-naturedly, "It's a Computer - you dolt! And I suppose it would look that way to a Muggle if they saw a Wizard photograph... But honestly Ron, Muggles cannot shrink people."  
  
Ron huffed, looking at Harry suspiciously, "Sound a bit like Hermione with the 'honestly Ron' bit...." He walked over to his friend's chair and bent down to look at him in mock-concern. "Are you feeling alright?"  
  
Harry laughed, "Perfectly. 'Mione would have your hide if she heard that."  
  
Ron smiled, plopping down into his chair, "Good thing she's not here then, right?"  
  
Harry smiled, his thoughts lingering on the said companion. Neither he nor Ron had seen Hermione since she had started her assignment almost a month ago. His smile faded as he sunk farther into his chair and looked around the small safe house, reminding himself vigilantly of why he was here. He looked over to his friend, his comrade-in-arms, of who he had been through so much with, and tried to ignore the concern he saw in Ron's eyes as he gazed back at Harry.  
  
Ron frowned, noting the symptoms of his friend's newly found pastime of brooding. He sighed, many things had happened to everyone in the last decade.... Harry, of course, had been affected the most. His eyes narrowed, unsure of how to bring the man out of his stupor.  
  
"Harry..." he began but was interrupted by the sound of the lock on the door rattling - a muffled cry of frustration heard from behind the entranceway before the door swung open, a figure emerging cast in shadow from the glare of the mid afternoon sun.   
  
Both Ron and Harry rose, their wands gasped in hand, as they tensed for attack - trying desperately to ascertain the identity of the person walking in the room. The two men stiffened as the watched the figure at the entrance transform into that of a woman; Ron swore in recognition, rolling his eyes as he lowered his wand.  
  
"Oi Gin! Announce yourself next time - I could have blasted you into next week!"  
  
Ginny smiled, her eyes never glancing up at the two startled men - her petite frame shifting from left to right to accommodate the extra weight of the box she carried as her sleek ponytail swayed in time to the rapid rhythm of her pace as she made her way towards the kitchenette table.  
  
She paused, dropping the box onto the table with a 'clunk'. "Honestly Ron - blasting your own sister? What would Mum say?" she shook her head in mock reproof, "And when she brings you some of Mum's cooking!"  
  
Ron jumped, his face mirroring that of a small child as he smiled broadly - peering into the contents of the box.   
  
"Mum's cooing? That's brilliant!"  
  
Ginny smiled, rolling her eyes skyward. "Yeah - and ya better owl her a 'thanks'. She seems to think you two can't take care of yourselves..." She shook her head sarcastically, "Don't know why she'd think that though."  
  
"Hullo Harry." She said, glancing in his direction before collapsing onto the nearest chair.  
  
Harry stared, his posture still maintaining the rigidity it had when the young woman had first opened the door. His emerald eyes looked over her form - his face thoughtful and uncertain. Ron looked over to his dark haired friend, a piece of chicken in his hand - his plate already half-empty.  
  
"Oi mate... Harry - FOOD." He stated - his chicken leg waving in his hand for emphasis.  
  
Harry blinked, twice, before coming to his senses. Shaking his head, Harry moved towards the small table - trying to forget the effect Ginny seemed to be having on him lately. He sighed, settling down at the table in front of the food that had been placed for him. Ginny Weasley. His lips twitched as he thought of the crush she had on him back in her first year at Hogwarts. He looked pensively down towards his food - he had thought of her crush as well... weird back then and he had been pleased to find she had gotten over her preoccupation with Harry Potter a little over a year latter.  
  
Then something unexpected happened. After going back to Hogwarts for her graduation, he had discovered something - disturbing. Ginny Weasley, the tiny, stickly little child - the sister of one of his best friends - had become a woman.   
  
He chewed viciously at his food, not even taking the time to notice what he was eating, as he glanced furtively at the woman seated next to him. By classical standards she was not, by all means, a beautiful woman. With her compact frame and her freckled face - no one would claim her to be 'model' material. However, there was a spark in her eyes - a fire that Harry had found to be annoyingly charming and an undying hope for the future and normality that he found himself clinging to... wanting desperately to believe in.   
  
His thoughts became abruptly to an end as a hand came in contact with the back of his head.  
  
"Eat your food you silly man - before it gets cold! I swear you sulk more than any man I've ever met!" Ginny exclaimed, shaking her head as her hand returned to her fork.   
  
Harry inwardly moaned as he brought his attention back to his plate. Clearly, Ginny Weasley had gotten over her crush a long time ago... In a word? Harry was screwed.   
  
*****  
  
Lucius Malfoy had never been known for his patience - in any aspects of his life - and today was no exception as he sat by his unlit fireplace, staring into its empty expanse. Waiting. Annoyed fingers strummed as his expertly manicured nails glimmered in the dim light of the room, making time with the grandfather clock on in the corner.   
  
Unexpectedly, a puff of green smoke filled the once empty hearth as a young man appeared. Dusting off his cloak, the man stepped into the room glancing around, before settling on the man sitting before him.  
  
Lucius made no attempt to welcome the man. Instead, his fingers laced together coming to rest below his chin.  
  
"You're late."   
  
The man tensed, his blue eyes stared at nearly identical ones and he found no love in them.  
  
He shifted on his feet. "Sorry father. I... well, something unexpected happened."  
  
Lucius' expression remained placid; the only indication of his displeasure was the slight thinning of his lips.   
  
An eyebrow rose, "Oh?"  
  
The younger Malfoy shifted his weight once more - unsure of what to say.  
  
He cleared his throat. "He got away... I'm sorry father - I lost him after he Apparated somewhere - must have been warded - I, I couldn't follow him."  
  
Lucius looked at his son, considering what he had just heard. He smirked coldly, "So he managed to escape you, Draco? You never were good for much anything I suppose. Why should I think you could handle this simple task?" He surveyed his son, looking him up and down as he fidgeted nervously. Pathetic.   
  
"Do you have anything at all of interest for me, my boy? Or have you once again managed to waist my time?"   
  
Draco spine straightened at the insult as he glared at his father - wanting something other than hate to reflect the elder's eyes.   
  
He smiled, knowing that at least he could please him temporarily. "Actually I do. He had help escaping."  
  
Lucius eyebrows knitted in thought, "Really? And do you know who it was?"  
  
Draco smirked, nodding his head. "Hermione Granger."  
  
Draco's father paused; his blue eyes slightly widened in surprise, "The mudblood bitch from your school days?" He smiled cruelly. "Interesting. Very Interesting."  
  
  
  
  
  
*****  
  
  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Nothing really exciting to write here... though I did have an interesting thought while I was writing this ... a few years back, before I had succumb to the domain of Harry Potter fanfiction, I was a firm advocate of Hermione/Ron and HATED Harry/Ginny. I went strictly on canon and I believed that Hermione/Ron had something coming to heads in the books - even if it only was a crush - while I believed Ginny's crush was just idol worship.   
  
Hmm... funny how you can change your mind after a few well written fics. Just proves the old adage "don't knock it 'til you've tried it"!! Anyway, hope you enjoyed it, and please review!! 


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